Seasick
by OzGeek
Summary: Gibbs and Tony set up McGee to go undercover in sickbay.
1. Chapter 1

_There are many things NCIS fans enjoy about their little show: the head slapping, Gibbs' coffee consumption, Abby's Caf-pow consumption, Gibbs' driving, Ziva's driving, Abby's outfits and, of course, vomit. From Tony's car sickness to bad guys and Probies heaving it up in autopsy, from suspects loosing it in questioning ('I managed to avoid most of it') to those immortal Gibbs words: 'get Michael Jackson out of here before he ralphs', vomit is a mainstay of NCIS. Then of course, there is McGee's seasickness, which is where our story begins._

* * *

**Seasick**

Gibbs slammed his hand down forcefully on the desk.

"Dammit", he swore, "I know he's lying."

"He has an airtight alibi, boss", Tony pointed out.

Gibbs glared at him for a moment, "and you think I don't know that?"

"All I'm saying Boss is…"

"I know what you're saying, DiNozzo, and I'm saying I know that bastard is lying".

There were three bodies now, all with the same MO. Found dead in the sickbay first night out of port. No apparent reason: just dead. Heart failure was the best Ducky could come up with, which would have been fine if they had been in a nursing home, not an on aircraft carrier. But no, they were three young and otherwise healthy sailors who, apart from being found dead on the same ship, in the same sickbay after suffering from seasickness, seemed to have nothing in common.

All Abby could tell him was they all had some form of seasickness medication in their blood. She estimated that pretty much everyone on the ship would be taking some form of medication. The sickbay would have been filled with seasick cases. Every now and again, one of them would end up dead. Not on any other ship. Just on this one, just the one with this doctor. He did not believe in co-incidences.

Gibbs' gut was telling him he was being stonewalled. The ship's doctor, although concerned for his hit rate, didn't seem overly alarmed at the slowly accumulating death toll. He was definitely hiding something. The ship's Captain seemed to have his hands tied. He and DiNiozzo had gone over every inch of that blasted sickbay with the doctor hovering over their every move.

The only problem was they hadn't looked over sickbay when the ship was actually at sea, only when they got back. He needed a pre-emptive strike. He needed to be in sickbay on that first night. He and DiNozzo had organized to be onboard for two days from the time it left port to the time the LCAC took them back to land. They weren't allowed to interfere with sickbay: Captains orders.

"They ship out this afternoon, we've got two days and then that medico is gone for six months", Tony informed him from across the room.

"Are you trying to depress, me DiNozzo?" Gibbs growled.

"No Boss", Tony kept quite calm, "but I am saying, we might have enough cause to visit him in his place of work."

Gibbs paused and looked up at the younger agent, "I'm listening."

Tony swooped into Gibbs' desk talking fast and low, "We need to get into that sickbay while it's in action. We need a plant in sickbay, boss. Then we can nail that medico son-of-a-bitch."

"What illness are you planning on faking, DiNozzo?" there was a hint of a smile on Gibbs lips.

"None", there was a devious smile on his lips as he moved in closer to Gibbs' ear, "McGee gets really, really seasick".

Gibbs smiled and the two agents turned as one to stare at McGee who was tapping away conscientiously on his keyboard. He looked up at the movement and was un-nerved by the two steely pairs of eyes staring at him.

"What?"


	2. Three men on a boat, ahh, ship

Tony was the first to react, "I'm getting lunch", he announced, "My treat, new hamburger joint opened up. Probie?"

McGee's eyes flitted from Tony to Gibbs and back. There was something very artificial about Tony's offer.

"Ahh, OK, I guess."

"Great", said Tony turning to Gibbs again, "Nice greasy hamburgers", he whispered with a grin.

* * *

McGee's stomach churned as he tried to digest the enormous greasy hamburger that Tony had bought him for lunch. He was getting more suspicious by the moment. His hamburger seemed to be bagged separately from the others and none of the others seemed to drip quite as much as his. In fact, the others looked smaller, almost as if there was only salad on them.

He was equally suspicious of Tony's "Eat up, McGee" urgings every few minutes. It made him feel for Hansel and Gretel.

A rumble clawed its way up his esophageus, emerging as a painful burp which he attempted, unsuccessfully, to stifle.

"Excuse me", he mumbled. He was getting downright nauseous.

Tony shot Gibbs a happy grin and Gibbs acknowledged him with a small salute before standing abruptly.

"DiNozz, McGee, get your coats", he said, "we're off to Norfolk."

McGee's head shot up in horror, "Boss that's a long drive…"

"You used to do it at all times of the morning when Abby was waiting at the other end", Tony reminded him.

McGee blanched, "It's not that, it's just, I'm a …the hamburger doesn't seem to be agreeing with me…"

"We'll get you a bag", Gibbs dismissed him, "I need you down there".

"Yes, sir", he relented unhappily, swallowing hard to keep whatever was trying to escape from his stomach at bay, "Just so long as we don't have to go on any boats."

"Not a chance", Gibbs assured him.

"Ships: yes, Boats: no", Gibbs muttered to Tony with a wry smile as he headed for the elevator, "Gotta learn to tell the difference."

Tony loved his job.

* * *

The trip to Norfolk was 193 miles of pure hell. A hot stuffy car and Gibbs driving compounded the problem. McGee stared resolutely out the window, lips clamped together not daring to speak. Excess saliva kept pooling in his mouth and he found himself swallowing several times a minute just to keep up. A few, thankfully non-productive burps managed to squeeze their way out, but on the whole, he managed to keep the partly digested hamburger slime safely inside.

He was beyond relieved when they finally pulled into the parking lot and lept out of the car before Gibbs had even killed the engine. Gibbs and Tony emerged more slowly, Tony going around to the trunk to extract three bags. He tossed one to Gibbs and the other to McGee.

"What's this for?" McGee asked him.

"You'll need it", Tony assured him.

"Why?"

"Come, on", Gibbs urged heading towards the ship which was obviously preparing to leave; "we don't want to miss our SHIP".

McGee took two steps before he processed what Gibbs had said then he back peddled into Tony.

"Boarding, Boss?" he panicked, "On?"

Tony had him by the shoulders and was pushing him forcefully towards the ship in question.

"B..b…but I don't have my Dramamine, you need to take it hours before..", he took a sudden side step to escaped from Tony's embrace and turned to call to Gibbs up ahead in the distance.

"Boss, please", he pleaded.

Gibbs turned and walked back to where McGee was standing panic stricken.

"We need someone to infiltrate sickbay McGee", he said in a low voice, "It has to be convincing. We'll wire you up; all you got to do is stay there."

McGee was shaking his head slowly in horror, "No", he whimpered.

Tony slapped him on the back, "We want you to give it up for the team, McGee".

"You think this is funny?" McGee turned on him, "How would you like it if he sent you out to be car sick 'for the team'?"

"But he's not", Tony reminded him, "He's putting his faith in you."

He pointed his finger into McGee's chest where it was swatted away.

McGee appealed once more to Gibbs, "Please, sir, boss, it just feels terrible.."

Gibbs felt for the man, but he felt more for the three victims that had already left this ship in body bags.

"It's only for a couple of days", he said consolingly.

"Days!"

"McGee!" Gibbs snapped, "It's an order: On the ship now."

There was a moment when McGee genuinely thought of running. He was sure Tony could take him down in a few meters and then Gibbs would probably shoot him. Then he'd either be dead of carted off to a nice landlocked hospital. He weighed up the pros and cons of his options. Then he considered what would actually happen: Gibbs would probably just take out his kneecaps or something then they'd drag him on board anyway. He surrendered to his fate. Wordlessly, he pushed past Gibbs and Tony and headed for the ship.

The queasiness amplified itself ten fold as he set foot on the gang plank and he very nearly turned back, damn the consequences. Instead he grasped the railing firmly and hoisted himself along the narrow walkway hoping to distract himself from the rising nausea with the feel of cold metal under his hand. He noticed the water beneath. He considered jumping. Maybe he could get crushed by the bulk of the ship on the way down.

They stood at the head of the gang plank while Gibbs exchanged documents with the person in charge.

"How's it going, Probie?" Tony whispered in his ear.

To McGee's surprise there seemed to be some concern in Tony's tone.

"I wouldn't stand too close", he warned.

"This way", Gibbs directed and shot off down a staircase.

Once they had reached the cramped quarters and dumped their bags, Gibbs ordered McGee to sit.

"We're going to wire you up," he informed McGee, unpacking some electronic equipment from one of the bags.

He leant close to McGee and then stopped. McGee was already looking pale and sweaty: He was shaping up well.

"How you feeling," he asked lightly, concentrating hard on the placement of the equipment.

"Dizzy", McGee replied loosening his tie and undoing his top button, "and hot. It's stuffy in here". He swallowed hard and yawned widely.

"Can you hold it together until we see the captain?"

McGee held up a hand and moved back from Gibbs, holding his fist to his mouth. A gut-wrenching burp racked him.

"How long will that be?" he asked relaxing his hands again.

"Not long", Gibbs assured him, "we report to him after we set sail".

Gibbs stepped back to admire his own handy work as McGee undertook another painful burp. His stomach rumblings echoed around the cabin.

"I don't know if I can last that long, Boss", said McGee weakly.

"Do your best", Gibbs patted him on the back as he straightened out; "I just want something nice and spectacular. Something no one will doubt."

"No problems there, Boss", McGee assured him stifling another yawn.

Gibbs stood. "Why don't you just lie down here for a bit and Tony and I will go topside and snoop around a bit."

McGee nodded dumbly and toppled gently to one side curling his knees up and holding his stomach.

"We'll come and get you at show time", Gibbs assured him.

As the walked back through the maze of corridors, Tony voiced something that had been bugging him: "Boss, isn't lying down in a small room with no windows like the worst thing you can do when you're…"

He stopped as he met Gibbs wicked grin.

"Oh", he said.


	3. Painting the wall brown

The moment they had word they were clear to see the captain, Gibbs and Tony made their way back to the cabin. They could hear the sound of McGee retching long before the cabin door was even in sight.

"Guess he couldn't last that long", Tony shrugged.

Gibbs glared at him for a moment and pushed the door open. McGee was sitting on a chair slumped against the wall with a small plastic vomit bag clasped firmly in his hands looking pale and shaky with dark rimmed eyes and sweat fringed hair. From the mess on the floor, and across the walls, and down the back of the door, the first and possibly second and third bouts had taken him completely by surprise.

Tony surveyed the damage.

"Probie!" he complained "It's like a chainsaw massacre movie in here".

He watched fascinated as one of the chunkier pieces slid gracefully down the wall leaving a browny-orange trail in its wake.

"Hey", he said indignantly as it hit the floor, "I distinctly said hold the diced carrots on that burger".

McGee managed to shoot him a withering glance with his last remaining ounce of strength. He was well aware of his fate now. If he had been able to hold it all in, he might, just might, have had a chance of getting off this ship suffering merely two days of nausea. Once his stomach contents had actually started coming out, however, he had reached the point of no return and the floodgates were, quite literally, open.

He had been unprepared for the first bout arriving as it did in a great sudden spurt as lay dozing miserably on the bed. Then began the frantic search for the plastic sick bag Gibbs had handed him for the car trip. He'd shoved it in his jacket pocket. He had taken off the jacket in the cabin because of the heat. He knew it was lying around here somewhere and in his haste; he spun a full 360 degrees looking for it. Never a good move at the best of times, the manoeuvre had caused his stomach to immediately attempt to evacuate its contents.

Tony was right: It was like a scene from a horror movie in the cabin but, quite frankly, that was not his problem. They wanted this, they got it.

"This reminds me of something", Tony pondered examining the dripping brown slime slowly oozing down the walls, "Ah yes, it's radiating from a central point! It's like a really gross crime scene."

"Are you finished, DiNozzo, or do you want to bag and tag?" Gibbs queried.

"No, no, I'm fine", Tony backed off.

"Have you got enough left to meet the captain?" Gibbs asked eyeing the rather full bag in McGee's trembling hands.

McGee uttered a piteous whimpered and let forth another blast causing Gibbs to rethink his plan. He still had to make sure the captain and the suspect were not suspicious.

"OK", he said suddenly making his decision, "I'll see the captain and DiNozzo you take McGee to sick bay. Take the scenic route. Pretend to get lost: Anything. See how many people you can get to see him on the way."

Tony looked down at McGee and grimaced. "Boss", he complained.

"What"

"It's just, you know, Blahhhh, yeach…."

"DiNozzo!"

"On it Boss"

"Then see if you can get someone to clean up this mess."

Tony bent down and took one of McGee's arms. Wrapping it across his shoulders he hoisted McGee up and headed for the door. He could feel McGee's sweat starting to seep through his own clothes. At least he hoped it was sweat. One thing was sure: He was having a shower the moment he dumped McGee in sickbay.


	4. Sickbay

Despite Gibbs' suggestion, Tony took the most direct route to the sickbay. It was hard enough to walk through the narrow corridors and oval access ports on the way without having to stabilize another person who had to keep stopping to hurl into a dangerously overflowing bag every few minutes.

His knock on the sickbay door was opened abruptly by a rather hassled looking doctor, otherwise known as 'the suspect in question'.

"NCIS!" he was positively livid, "You guys are under direct orders not to bother me. I have a room full of first-timers with motion sickness."

He started to shut the door but Tony barged through, "Yeah," he said, dragging McGee behind him, "Well, now you have another one."

The doctor's expression went from one of anger to resignation. He rolled his eyes at Tony, "I expected more from you guys", he growled.

"He's a Probie", Tony explained.

"Find a bed, we'll get 'round to you", he invited taking the brimming bag from McGee with one hand and passing him a fresh one with the other.

Tony looked about for a bed. The room was full of miserable looking navy personnel in various stages of malaise. McGee looked like he would fit right in. Tony sat him on a vacant bed and looked up as someone behind him vomited. This seemed to trigger a chain reaction that went round the room like a Mexican wave, McGee included. Tony was staring to feel a bit off himself. It was like someone in the room yawning.

He looked down at McGee, pale and wretched on the bed, "Sorry, Probie", he whispered urgently, "I've gotta get out of here or it's gonna be Hotel California for me."

He tapped McGee twice on the back and fled, not even to looking back to see McGee's baleful stare.

* * *

McGee started as the nurse touched him on the shoulder. He had been sitting hunched on the bed with his eyes shut trying to ignore the sights, sounds and smells of the room. His head was thumping in a way that made the world slide in and out of reality at regular intervals. He couldn't remember a time when he felt so miserable.

"Special agent McGee?"

"Hmm", he looked up slowly and was dazzled, not just by the sight of a beautiful woman, but a beautiful woman in seemingly perfect health.

"I just need to check your condition", she explained, it could have seemed caring if she hadn't sounded like she'd said it a million times today.

She took the bag from him and shook out a fresh new one. Placing it in his hands, she wrapped the cuff around his arm to measure his blood pressure.

"Taken anything for it?" she asked, concentrating on the blood pressure measurement.

"No, this trip was a bit of a surprise", he rasped with what was left of his tortured vocal chords.

She slid him a bemused smile, "How long have you been vomiting?"

"How long have we been moving?"

She smiled at him, "That long, eh?"

She released the blood pressure monitor and frowned. She took his hand in hers and pinched up a fold of skin. "You're dehydrated", she surmised, "How much have you drunk since you came on board?"

The mere mention of ingestion caused him to retch into his brand new shiny sick bag but he was down to the bile by now. The nurse stood by, nonplussed, waiting for him to finish.

"Nothing, I've had nothing since lunchtime", McGee admitted, gasping a little, "There hasn't been much time to get anything in, it would only come back up again.." he petered out as he caught the annoyed look on her face, "sorry", he apologised.

"Doctor", she called back over her shoulder.

The hassled doctor reappeared, she showed him McGee's chart and he too did a pinch test.

"Oral re-hydration?" he directed the question at the nurse.

"Tried mentioning it him", she said with an amused tone.

"Ah", he turned to McGee, "Apart from the obvious nausea, you're dehydrated, Special Agent McGee", he explained, "we have a couple of options at this point: oral" he held up a large tablet and an even larger bottle of water causing McGee to dry retch, "anal", he held up an even larger pill, "or, my suggestion at this point, intravenous."

McGee stifled a yawn which was completely at odds with the emotion he was feeling.

"Ok, oral it is!" the doctor laughed. It had been a hard day and the look on McGee's face was enough to put him in a better mood. "We might try to sustain you on the patches if the IV kicks in OK", he promised.

"Start him on the IV", he instructed the nurse as he left.

McGee looked up at the nurse expectantly. She gave him a brief smile.

"Lie down", she suggested as she unwrapped a thin rubber tube from a plastic bag. "I'll start the fluid going and we can pump the anti-nausea stuff in straight away. You're going to start feeling much better real soon".

Lying on the thin mattress, McGee closed his eyes in relief. He felt the needle slide into his arm and the cool liquid start flowing.

"That's the fluid", he heard the nurse say. "Now I'm going to add the anti-nausea agent. I have to warn you that there may be some side effects but most people really don't care about those at this point."

"Bring it on," said McGee, he couldn't possibly feel worse than this.

"It can make you feel a bit drowsy, everyone reacts a bit differently so I'll stay with you a few minutes to see if there are any problems. There: all done. How do you feel?"

McGee considered for a moment then smiled, the awful sensation was receding, "better, much be…", then the world spun and he sank into darkness.

The nurse stood, "Special Agent McGee", she called tapping his face hard with the palm of her hand. She grabbed the chart and checked his first name, that usually worked better, "Tim", she called, "can you hear me?"

"Doctor!" she called.


	5. Noises off

When Gibbs entered the cabin after dinner he was pleased to find that the room looked and smelt like new again. There was no way he could have slept in that house of horrors. Tony was wearing the headset and bashing his head on the desk.

"Anything?"

Tony looked up suddenly and ripped the headset from his ears. "I hope Abby has some damn good noise suppression software", he growled, "There's a lot going on down there but I can't hear most of it over McGee's snoring!"

Gibbs chuckled briefly; Ahh the challenges of the field, "I'll pay him a little visit and see if I can shift it", he offered.

* * *

Gibbs was surprised when the door to sickbay opened and he came face to face with the Captain of the ship. He was old, clearly approaching retirement and did not seem to suffer NCIS agents gladly.

"You are not to harass my medical staff, Special Agent Gibbs", he warned, "They are under enough stress as it is."

"Came to see my agent", said Gibbs shortly, pushing past him.

The Captain positively harrumphed at Gibbs and turned back to the nurse, "I'll come back" he called.

He left, slamming the dorr unceremoniously behind him.

Gibbs eyes scanned the room; it was fairly quiet now with just the odd retch every now and again. The doctor was nowhere in sight. He spotted McGee sound asleep in a corner of the room with a drip in his arm.

The nurse drew up alongside him.

"How is he", he asked soberly.

"Well, the good news is the nausea and de-hydration are under control", she started.

"And the bad news?" Gibbs prompted.

"He reacted rather strongly to the anti-nausea medication, nothing life threatening but it knocked him out for a while".

"When can I have him back?"

"The doctor would like to keep him in over night, just for observation."

"Can I talk to him?"

"You can try, but he probably won't answer."

The nurse left to attend to another patent, leaving Gibbs to approach McGee unsupervised.

"McGee", he rasped.

No response.

Sighing, Gibbs carefully undid McGee's tie, removed it, rolled it up and placed it in his pocket. Then he carefully felt around for the planted microphone hidden under his collar and shuffled it further down to his waistline.

"Better, DiNozzo?" he whispered. He didn't expect an answer.

McGee roused a little, "Boss?" he said drowsily.

"Good job, McGee", Gibbs patted him on the shoulder.

McGee gave a contented sigh and went back to sleep.

* * *

"Better?" Gibbs asked Tony on his return to the cabin.

Tony glared at him and passed over the headset.

"What the hell is that?" said Gibbs, "Whale noises?"

"You put it near his stomach", Tony was exasperated.

"But is it better?"

Tony considered, "Yes", he finally conceded, "Now I can hear voices in the background just beyond old Moby Dick. Can't actually work out what they're saying, mind you, but they are there. I hope Abby's up to it."

"Of course she's up to it, DiNozzo", said Gibbs, taking up the headset and urging Tony off the chair, "hit the bed, "you relieve me at 2 am".

* * *

Tony started at 7 am when Gibbs tapped him on the shoulder.

"Learn anything?"

"Yeah", said Tony, lifting one ear piece, "McGee can aim into a bottle while lying in a bed. We might want to edit that bit out."

"At least he's re-hydrated"

"Oh, yeah", Tony agreed, "And then some. I think he's up now, the snoring has stopped and he might even be eating something. There should be a knock on the door in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1".

There was a sharp rap on the door which brought both their heads up. Tony hurriedly shut the box containing the listening device and managed to snag the chord of the head phones in the process, dragging his head down to lie on the top of the closed lid.

"Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo?"

"Yo", called Gibbs as Tony struggled to untangle himself from the headset, open the lid, toss the headset in the case and shut it again.

"Captain wants to see you in the sick bay ASAP"

"Be right there", Gibbs called out. He shot Tony an exasperated look. Tony shrugged.

"Let's go", said Gibbs gruffly.

"So do we admit we bugged him or let him take the blame?" Tony asked expectantly.

"Never assume, DiNozzo"


	6. Another one bites the dust

When they arrived in sickbay Gibbs and Tony were surprised to see McGee sitting up in a chair looking like a paler version of his old self. He was munching his way through a dry cracker.

"Hey Probie", Tony greeted him, "What's up?"

"Don't know", said McGee through a mouthful of cracker, "They won't tell me, just said they want to wait until we're all here."

At the sound of voices, the doctor appeared from around a curtain. "Ahh, good, Special Agent Gibbs, you're here. I need to show you this."

Gibbs and Tony followed the doctor around the curtain with McGee hot on their tails.

The doctor spoke low to Gibbs, "We lost another one in the night."

Gibbs shot Tony a questioning look but received only a shrug in return. He had heard nothing over the headset. They would have to wait until Abby could process the signal. Damn.

Gibbs looked down at the body. Another sailor lay dead in this sickbay. That was four. Four in one sickbay was not a co-incidence; even if he believed in them. He looked up at McGee.

"Did you hear anything last night?"

McGee averted his eyes, "Ahh no boss, I was um, sleeping."

"Someone is murdered not 6 feet from you and you slept through it?" Gibbs was incredulous.

"Well, boss, I was well, sick and um.." he looked to the doctor for moral support.

"Agent McGee was in a medicated sleep, agent Gibbs", he reported calmly, "There's no way he could have heard anything."

"Does the Captain know?" asked Gibbs running an agitated hand through his hair.

"Yes", he's on his way down now", said the doctor nervously.

The Captain appeared in minutes, gruff but efficient.

"We need to get closer to land", Gibbs informed him directly.

"Can do", the Captain replied in a resigned tone.

"And I'll reschedule the launch. We leave in two hours and we're taking him with us", said Gibbs curtly nodding at the body, "DiNOzzo, McGee, I want this processed as a crime scene, go."

As he turned to leave, McGee trailed him.

"We're getting off, Boss?" it was better than Christmas.

"Yep, we'll take the LCAC back to shore at the next point."

McGee closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

"Now get back to work, you've had enough time off."

* * *

They left the bowels of the ship in the LCAC soon after 9 am, the noise from the large fans made conversation impossible and they spent most of their time hanging on grimly as the LCAC skimmed over the choppy seas.

As the sailor's body was loaded into the waiting ambulance, Tony paused to steady himself. He was feeling a little queasy from the journey.

"You should be thankful", said Gibbs jovially, "In my day we used the old LCM8s. Like a flat bottomed brick with a top speed of 10 knots. More than a few green marines when we landed in those things."

"Hey, Probie", said Tony suddenly, "how come you're not sick?"

McGee considered, "I don't know. Maybe it's this little tiny patch on my arm or maybe it's the fact that I just spent 12 hours of my life having anti-seasickness medication pumped directly into my bloodstream. It's a mystery, Tony."

Tony passed a slightly nauseous hand over his mouth.

"Feel like a nice, big greasy hamburger, Tony?" McGee teased vindictively as he headed for the car.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him and turned away.


	7. Abby's lab

"My God, McGee", exclaimed Abby as she threw down the headphones, "You must have sleep apnoea. Have you heard this?" she switched on the speakers.

McGee flushed a little from his perch on the stool next to her, "Abbs, I was sick", he mumbled, "and they gave me something that really knocked me out."

"Well, it's going to take some time to drag the background conversations out of that bit", she huffed, "And you still grind your teeth, by the way: I told you that you should still wear that retainer."

McGee grimaced; this was going to be a long afternoon.

"And this bit!" she shrieked, "What's with all the whale noises. No wonder Willy wanted to be free."

"I was sick", McGee defended, "I had been throwing up for hours, give me a break."

"But this", Abby moved the recoding forward, "Is my personal favourite".

McGee rubbed his hand across his forehead wearily. "I had to go, Abbs, what was I meant to do?"

"So I'm thinking of releasing two recordings", Abby enthused, "one with the background noise and one entitled 'McGee's body noises'."

McGee shook his head. He was still fairly tired after his ordeal and not really in the mood for all this. He folded his arms on the bench and sunk his head wearily on top with a sigh. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel some residual ship motion even though he was on terra firma again. At least he didn't feel queasy any more.

"You know what would really help me out?" said Abby brightly.

"Me going home and sleeping for a week?" he ventured hopefully.

Abby's smile widened "Yes! That's it! Fantastic idea, McGee!"

"Excuse me?" his head popped up. Conversations with Abby were rarely linear.

"I need to filter out these noises to get to the ones I want", Abby reasoned, "If I can model the snoring, the teeth grinding and the stomach thing, I can match the sounds and eliminate them."

McGee was staring at her in horror. "You want me to wire up tonight so you can tape every sound I make? Again?"

"No", said Gibbs materialising at the door, "I need it sooner than that. Every moment we wait that ship and that killer are moving further out of range."

"OK, OK", Abby jumped up excitedly, "Let's see if you can snore into the microphone".

She held the device up to McGee's mouth, "Come on, let's hear it…" she urged.

"No, no, no", he backed away from her, climbing backwards off the stool, "What about some form of self-cal: we can model the snoring from the loud bit in the beginning and then use that to clean up the later bits when the snoring is fainter."

Abby paused for a moment, "A valid suggestion, my dear McGee", she began, calculating as she spoke, "Except there is a lot of loud talking mixed in with that initial snoring which will contaminate the signal. Now come here, my pretty." She thrust the microphone under his nose.

McGee looked down hesitantly at the device and then up at Abby. "I'm not sure how I do it?"

"Well, lie down on your back then", Abby suggested pulling him to the floor, "that makes it easier to make the noise".

"Abbs I can't do this," he protested weakly.

"Yes you CAN", she assured him, "You can do it in your sleep!"

"Very droll"

He lay down and attempted a snort. Abby frowned at him.

"No, no", she complained, "it has to be exactly the same. Think Fourier analysis, I need those frequencies."

He closed his eyes and tried again but no matter what he tried, he could not seem to even approximate the noises on the tape.

"It's no use", he said finally, "I can't do this, you'll just have to wait until tonight."

"Look, you're really tired", she said in the silk smooth tone of a hypnotist, "why don't you just lie down in the back there and when you fall asleep, I'll sneak around with the microphone."

McGee looked at Abby's predatory smile and flaring eyes and never felt more acutely awake. Every sense was exquisitely alive and tingling, possibly with fear. He wasn't entirely sure Abby wouldn't rip out his jugular for good measure if he managed even a minute of unconsciousness in her presence.

"I ah, don't think I could do that now", he said eyeing her warily.

"Why not!" Abby was incredulous, "You were ready to drop a moment ago and now you won't even sleep for the job. Think of it as sleeping your way to the top."

"Maybe we could just find a model on the internet", McGee suggested, jumping up, his hands diving for the keyboard.

"No, it has to be your own personal frequencies", Abby reminded him, "What about hypnosis?"

"Wouldn't it be just easier to…"

"I have a better idea," said Gibbs from the door.


	8. Sleeping on the job

The little office at the back of Abby's lab was very crowded but it was the most soundproof location they could find in the lab. The futon took up a great deal of the floor space and with Abby, Gibbs and Ducky gathered around McGee lying supine on the floor with his hands clasped protectively across his still growling stomach, it was hard for anyone to move.

Ducky flicked the needle in his hands once to eliminate the air bubbles.

"I'm using a very low dose", he explained to McGee, in an attempt to relieve the fear he could see clearly etched across his face, "In all probability, it will only serve to make you more relaxed or just drowsy so you can sleep naturally."

McGee's gave him a disbelieving look; there was no way he could sleep with three people leering at him and a microphone in his face. This was ridiculous.

"Ok, Timothy, just relax", and he felt the cold swab followed the needle's quick jab.

He waited with his heart in his throat looking up anxiously at Abby who seemed to be staring at his eyelids rather than his eyes. She gave his hands a comforting, yet still impatient squeeze. A warm and deliciously drowsy sensation washed over him. His eyes slid shut, the world darkened and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Abby waited expectantly with the microphone in her hand.

"When does he snore, Duck", she asked impatiently shifting from one foot to the other.

"Give it time," Ducky assured packing up his equipment. "I'll be back in an hour to check how you're going, give me a ring if anything unexpected happens".

"Thanks, Ducky", said Abby distractingly hanging over McGee with her microphone at the ready.

* * *

Abby leapt up excitedly on Ducky's return. McGee was on lying contently on his side, dead to the world and still snoring loudly.

"Oh Ducky!" she exclaimed, "This stuff is gold! I've gotta get this into the noise suppressor. I got the huffing, grunting, groaning, shifting, I even got the teeth grinding and the whale noises! I'm gonna release an album! Thanks Duck!", and she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You're very welcome, my dear", he smiled as she bounced out the door.

"Don't wake him 'till I check it all worked", Abby called back from the lab.

Ducky looked down at McGee, "I was thinking of just leaving him there", he said thoughtfully, "he looks very comfortable and it's getting pretty late. Is there any point to waking him?"

Abby paused in her tracks. "Probably not," she considered, "and he might be a bit less grumpy with more sleep, he wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs this afternoon."

Abby fed her recordings into the spectrum analyser and started up her noise suppression program. "This is going to be so great!" she said to no one in particular.

A few tweaks latter and she was ready.

"OK", she announced, "Snoring on" she clicked her mouse and McGee's snores echoed around the lab.

"Snoring off", she clicked her mouse again and the snoring magically disappeared leaving residual voices. She jacked up the volume and could clearly make out a conversation in the background that had been completely obliterated a moment earlier.

"Yes, Yes, Yes", she jumped around the room.

"I love this algorithm! Wives around the world are going to thank me for this technology one day! If only I could apply it to some active noise cancellation ear plugs."

"OK", she sat down again, "Let's do the little bit before Gibbs comes in and then we'll go for the stomach noises".

She put the headphones on and listened for a while, her eyes growing wide in concern. She paused the recording and put down the headphones."

"Ducky", she called, "Get McGee up, he's gonna want to hear this."

Then she picked up the phone.

"Gibbs", she said without fanfare, "I know what happened."


	9. Solutions

Tony was fascinated. As far as he could tell McGee was actually sleeping. His eyes were closed, his breathing was steady and his head was resting sloppily on his arms which were folded on the bench in front of him but if Tony moved the pizza within smell range, McGee would actually start suckling on it. He moved it back a little and watched as McGee stopped. He moved it within range again and watched McGee latch on. In out, in out.

His observations were cut short by Gibbs' sudden thwack on the back of the head. McGee sat straight up and was surprised to find a slice of pizza hanging out of his mouth. He caught it with one hand as it started to fall. For a moment he looked puzzled but then he shrugged and continued eating.

"Wow", he said through a mouthful of pizza, "That was a realistic dream".

"Whatcha got Abbs?" said Gibbs curtly.

"Oh, Bossman, you are so going to love this", she screeched, "Now this is the original recording", the snoring rang out again.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at McGee who looked down self consciously, still munching on his surprise pizza.

"And this is snoring off", the sounds of voices could be heard, "Great algorithm, huh?"

"Great", Gibbs agreed without enthusiasm.

"OK", said Abby seriously, "This is where it gets interesting." She turned the volume knob on the speakers.

_A male voice said "Who did you select?"_

_A female voice replied "That one, that one, those three over there and him."_

"_The NCIS agent?" there was a low chuckle, "That took balls. Any problems?"_

_The female voice replied again, "Actually I nearly lost the blasted NCIS agent. He started to crash but he came back up all on his own."_

"_Well, that's good news anyway; the new formula seems to be helping."_

"_Yes. I'll do the top-up at 2 am"_

There was a bold double knock at the door and the male voice swore_, "He's early"._

There was the sound of the door opening and then two male voices. As the second male voice came closer to the microphone, they all recognised Gibbs voice.

McGee had stopped chewing and was staring at the speakers in horror.

Gibbs face was a picture of rage. "It's not the doctor: it's the damn Captain", there was a distinct tone of malevolence in his voice.

"What happens at two?" asked Tony.

"Just hold on a moment", said Abby distractedly typing on her keyboard.

There was the sound of stomach rumblings and grinding over the speaker

"McGee!" Tony gave McGee an exasperated thwack over the head for something his stomach had done more than 36 hours earlier "we're trying to listen."

McGee almost, just almost used his elbow. It was at exactly the right height and he was in exactly the right mood. He decided to save it for another day when the atmosphere wasn't so tense. There would be other opportunities.

"Hold on, hold on", said Abby typing frantically, "I just haven't added those bits into the model. The other bit was primarily snoring so it was easier to filter out but this bit…"

"Abby!"

"Right, got it"

She played the recorded from 2 am. There was no conversation, merely light background shuffling until the woman in question moved closer to McGee.

"_So Agent McGee", _the tone of her voice sent shivers down McGee's back_, "Let's see if you live through this one"._

She sounded like she was up for a challenge.

They held a collective breath as they listened, somehow actually expecting him to die even though they knew full well he was currently sitting in the room with them.

"_Maybe next time", she said ominously._

In the lab McGee gulped audibly. She had seemed so nice when he was conscious.

There was more shuffling and then some rather fluent swearing. Machines started beeping and there was the sound of paddles being charged.

The little group in the lab sat in solemn silence, waiting for the inevitable. Then they heard the phone call

"_We lost another one"._

Then came something more unexpected: "_Yes, I tried the new antidote. It almost worked this time, I can feel it. At least it's masked."_

It was Ducky who rose indignantly from his chair, "They're playing God and we've been testing the wrong damn bodies!"

They stared at him in silence as he paced the room, "They're masking whatever they are using to kill them," he explained, "What we need is the blood from someone who has had the original medication but not the antidote".

He stopped dead in his tracks. There was a maniacal glean in his eyes as he turned to McGee.

"Timothy"


	10. The sound of music

"Do you know what you are asking, Jethro?" said the Director levelly.

"Yep"

"You expect me to stop a 40000 ton fully laden aircraft carrier with over 1000 officers and enlisted and arrest its captain while on duty and out to sea?"

"Oh, sorry Jen", he smiled un-humorously; "Perhaps we should just let the inconvenient murderers get away."

She stared at him for a moment and then sighed heavily. "I'll make some calls".

"That's why they pay you the big bucks, director," Gibbs smiled wryly as he left the office.

* * *

"Talk to me", said Gibbs as he entered the bullpen.

"Guess what the Captain did his degree in, boss?" Tony started.

"DiNozzo!"

"Chemistry, Boss".

"And", McGee piped up, "his latest mobile phone calls before he set sail were to CNTD, a major pharmaceutical company."

"Someone's planning his retirement", Gibbs mumbled to himself.

"Really planning", Ziva agreed, "he's due to retire when he gets back. Have you seen these retirement benefits? Do you guys get these?"

Gibbs shot her a silencing look.

"What about the nurse?"

"From what I saw of her, about mid-twenties, blonde, C-cup…"

Tony stopped abruptly as the daggers from Gibbs' eyes pierced his own.

"She was dismissed from a nursing home after claims she was interfering with her patient's medication", McGee cut in to save Tony, "apparently her nickname was 'the angle of death'"

"Catchy", remarked Tony.

Ducky pounded in, "We found it, Jethro."

"What was it?" asked Gibbs.

"And knowing its name would help you how, Jethro?" Ducky dismissed him, "needless to say, it's been banned in clinical trials. There was only one company really pushing it."

"Let me guess", said Gibbs, "CNTD"

"Yes", said Ducky ominously, "I thought you might have heard of them by now"

"Boss", asked McGee, "how are we going to get them off the boat, ah ship". He wasn't ever going to make that mistake again.

"It's an aircraft carried, McGee", Gibbs explained paternally, "we'll use an aircraft".

He stopped as the phone on his desk rang shrilly. As he spoke, the elevator opened and Abby bounced out. She handed Tony a small white device. There was a whispered conversation between them before Tony laughed, took the device and inserted the earpieces. Gibbs hung up the phone.

"That was the director", he said, "They're on their way to…what the hell are you doing DiNozzo?"

McGee and Ziva looked around to see Tony jiving around the office.

"Hey, that's my ipod", said McGee indignantly, striding over and ripping it out of Tony's hand.

A strange noise could be heard coming from the earpieces as they swung loosely. McGee frowned and lifted one to his ear to listen without actually inserting it. He shot Abby a dirty look and checked the name of the track on the screen.

"Very funny", he said.

"What is it?" asked Ziva trying to get close enough to read the track or hear the music.

"It's 'in the mood'", laughed Tony, "Composed of McGee snoring".

"That'll teach you to leave you ipod in my lab for a week, McGee", said Abby accusingly.

"I took it off because my ear kept hurting. It turned out I had an ear infection. Doctor said it wasn't infectious unless I did something stupid, like share an earpiece." He gave Tony a smug smile.

Tony's face fell and they all watched as he ran for the bathroom trying desperately to dig whatever nasties he could from his ears.

"Really", Ziva quizzed McGee.

"Nope", McGee smiled.

--END--


End file.
